For Susan
by sparrow.marrow
Summary: Rose finds some old books and unearths some very old memories. Written in response to the prompt: Fairy Tales.


The Doctor stuck his head up from under the console, a bit of bright blue wire strung around his neck. "What's all this then?"

Rose grunted and shifted her heavy load to her hip. "Books."

"I can see that."

"Even without your brainy specs on?" Rose shot back, staggering towards the jump seat.

"Yep," the Doctor chirped, his mouth stretching into a wide cheeky grin.

Rose snorted and grunted again, dumping her pile onto the floor. "Good for you."

"But what are you doing with all the books?"

Rose rolled her eyes, blowing a strand of hair away from her face. "I'm going to read them."

The Doctor tilted his head, curiosity piqued. "Really? I thought you said you were going to watch a film?"

"Telly's broke remember." Rose knelt down and divided the books into two tall stacks. "Said you were going to fix it last week but you never did."

"Oh, right." The Doctor winced, his arm snaking up to his ear to give it a light awkward tug.

"We're out of milk too. And bread."

The Doctor pursed his lips, opened his mouth, and then shut it again, unsure of how best to respond to the unsaid implications that accompanied the busted television and the rather barren state of the refrigerator.

Rose sat down on the jump seat, tucking her legs up under her. "S'okay though, I found these in the library, plenty to keep me occupied, while you tinker."

"Rose," he began, clearly offended, "I don't tinker."

She ignored him, a tiny smile curving up the corners of her lips, and opened the first book, abruptly sneezing when a think layer of dust flew up into the air. "Bit dusty," she wheezed, wrinkling her nose.

"Bless you." The Doctor reacted automatically. Crawling up from under the console, he shook his leg free from a spare pit of wiring and settled in front of her, pulling the top book into his lap. It was an old biography of Julius Caesar published in 1963. He shrugged, disinterested, and set it down; picking up another, an old French grammar book from the early 1960's stamped with _'Property of Coal Hill Secondary School'_ across its binding. His stomach rolled as a wave of unease washed over him, his fingers clenching down on the book's crumbling cover. "Rose, where did you find these?"

Rose shrugged, failing to notice the trepidation in his tone, intent on her discoveries. "They were in a trunk in the back corner of the library, not even on shelves or anything." She abandoned her first book, a heavy tome on advanced physics, and picked up another. "This one's pretty though." She held it up, so he could look at the title. It was a copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales bound in dark red leather with dog-eared gilt pages.

Rose plopped it down on her lap, letting it fall open in the middle to reveal a rich black and white print, of Snow White lying in her glass coffin. She flipped through the rest, delighted. The owner had drawn extra illustrations in the margins. Dark twisted trees, roses the lush colour of blood, bright-eyed birds with sharp talons, and shimmering groups of stars shaped into constellations all danced across the book's empty spaces. They had even coloured in some of the prints, giving Snow White rosy cheeks, shading in the various grasses and leaves in vibrant tones of green, and tinting the Little Mermaid's hair a rich auburn.

Coming to the last page, Rose shivered. The Big Bad Wolf gazed up at her, large menacing eyes painted over with brilliant polished gold that flickered dark and light, reflecting the wavering light of the console room. Little Red Riding Hood was there as well, standing boldly in the wolf's shadow, her crimson cape pulled up over her head so that her face fell into shadow, making her features indistinguishable.

Rose quickly flipped to the front, in order to put some distance between her and the glowing wolf on the back page. "Doctor, who's Susan?"

"What?" he croaked. He looked up at her, his eyes hazy as if had been thinking about something that had happened a long time ago.

"Who's Susan?" Rose held up the book again. On the front page in cramped precise script, it read - _'For Susan, on her 8th Birthday. - Grandfather'_

The Doctor shook his head, suddenly very fascinated by the French book in his lap. "Don't know, could be anyone. Lot's of girls named Susan, big universe."

"Yeah," Rose responded, studying his face carefully. "Doctor?"

"Hmmm?"

"Whose books are these?"

He shrugged and climbed quickly to his feet, dusting his hands off on his trouser legs. "No ones, probably picked them up in a second hand shop somewhere." He walked briskly over to the console, beginning to bush buttons, pulling down a lever. The TARDIS hummed to life. "Do you feel like take-out for dinner or do you want to make a trip to the grocery," he asked her cheerfully, infusing his voice with energy.

"Take-out I suppose." Rose looked down, running her fingers over the embossed cover of the book in her lap. "Doctor are you all right?"

He looked over at her, face a well-composed mask. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"No reason," she replied quickly. She hesitated, biting her lip, wary of pushing the subject but unsure whether or not to just let it drop. Making a decision, she set the book on the jump seat and stood up. "Just let me get my shoes."

"Rose?"

She turned back.

"Put those away before we go," he said, gesturing back towards the pile of books.

Rose furrowed her brow in confusion. "I wasn't done looking though them yet..."

"Just put them away," he snapped brusquely, causing Rose to flinch. He looked up, seeing the hurt look on her face. "Please," he added softly, his eyes impossibly dark.

Rose nodded, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest. "Yeah, okay."


End file.
